Return to You
by Anevay
Summary: War can tear people apart, but can it truly tear love? "I'm not leaving forever, Mana, I'll be back. There's no need to cry, my brave one. You're letting me do something any other sane women would leave a man for, thinking he would not return, and yet, you hold on. I promise, my love, I will return to you. You trust me, don't you?" AU VASESHIPPING
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh, please choose me to own you! I would do you justice… sigh. (I also don't own the lyrics I reference below.)**

A/N: Alright, ladies and gents! This is experimental. I roughly based it on the song _"My Love's in Germany," _which is really pretty, BTW (and depressing)—we're singing it in my choir class and I immediately tended towards Yugioh or some random people, which is weird… _any_way… I was just thinking about this and started writing it in my History class.

I want you to be _totally _honest on your opinion of this with me, okay? Constructive criticism! Don't be mean—share your opinion outright, but do it in a way that I can actually _do _something with it and fix this.

As I said before, this is experimental. I'm not sure if I'll go anywhere with this. For now it's a one-shot, but if enough people like it and want me to continue with it, I may just make this the prologue and add chaps. We'll see how it goes :P

So here it is! Don't judge right away. Just warning you, though—this is _kind of_ really sad, but if you like it I'll end it happy. It all depends you guys. I'm posting the lyrics (which I _also _don't own, those belong to a poet guy) they're the English version and I'm not entirely sure they're right to the choir song lyrics. Anyway, read 'em if you like. You can look the song up on youtube.

So, without further ado, here is my experimental/random so-far once-shot fic called _Return to You._

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><p>Lyrics to <em>My Love's in Germany<em>

My love's in Germany, send him home, send him home  
>My love's in Germany, send him home<br>My love's in Germany,  
>Fighting brave for royalty:<br>He may ne'er his Jeanie see—

Send him home, send him home

He may ne'er his Jeanie see, send him home  
>He's as brave as brave can be—send him home, send him home<br>He's as brave as brave can be—send him home  
>He's as brave as brave can be<br>He would rather fall than flee  
>But his life is dear to me—<br>Send him home, send him home,

His life is dear to me, send him home

Send him home, send him home.

My love, send him home, send him home.

Send him home.

My love—

Send him home.

He'll ne'er come o'er the sea—Willie's slain, Willie's slain  
>He'll ne'er come o'er the sea—Willie's slain<p>

He'll ne'er come o'er the sea,

To his home and own country,

This world's no more for me—

Willie's gone, Willie's gone,

This world's no more for me,

Willie's gone.

* * *

><p>Atem had left months ago, though it seemed years.<p>

It had been nearly six months now. She missed him so much it hurt to think about him. Her chest ached at the picture in her mind of the day he left: his ancient amethyst eyes were confident and smiling as he held her close, soothing her and promising he would come home.

He had always wanted to help in the war effort. Always. He had talked about it constantly—then finally, they had recruited him, as they realized his skill.

For Atem, it had been a day of triumph; a day for joy. For Mana, it had left her heart cold and alone, helpless to his wishes.

She wished he would come home soon. He had promised he would. When would the war end?

He had been sending her letters every day—sometimes they came all at once at the end of the week, but she read every last one. She read them over and over and over again.

She saved them all, too. Every one of them sat in a box beside her bed—there were thousand of them. He never failed to write. Didn't miss a day.

One such letter, the most recent, she had read more than many others. In his curvy handwriting, it read:

Mana,

I'm glad you can't see what I can. Your heart would stop cold if you knew of the horrors I do.

I write you as we hide in enemy territory, trying to gain a vantage point from which to launch an ambush. But don't worry. Our leader is a man you and I both know: Mahad. He is a powerful fighter and Magician.

He tells me now to give you a message: not to worry because he will assure both his and my return home. He is fiercely loyal. I do not doubt him; nor should you.

Mana, my love, I promised you I would return and I will. Against injuries and possible capture, the loss and pain, I _will _return to you.

_Love from_,

Atem

Her heart ached. She missed him so much.

_Years later..._

Mana read the most recent letter from Atem. His handwriting was as neat as ever. He didn't seem to be weary at all, though he did seem annoyed and a bit lonely. By now he held a high ranking position in the armies—she wasn't surprised. She still missed him, but he was doing his duty. He was doing what he had always wanted to do.

The letter said…

Mana,

Some of these new recruits aren't quite suiting up as I hoped. They're not used to the idea of death and war—of loss. I suppose it's natural. Being out here on the battle field gives you a sense of tolerance for a lot of things; things which probably shouldn't be normally tolerated. Violence, injury, pain—loneliness.

Of course, you're not _really _alone. There are others with you at all times. But in a sense, we _are _all alone. Men are men. We have no love but that of being brothers in arms. Everyone we love we left behind when we were recruited. Many of us left behind children and wives, families, brothers, sisters, every manner of loved ones.

I think of you often, Mana: before I sleep, when I dream, when I wake, every strain of air that leaves my body. At times the fact that I left you behind to do this is a new pain, even though it is older than others and only temporary.

Stay strong, my love. We all need to stay strong in times of war.

_Forever yours,_

Atem

She sighed, trying to fight the reopened wound. Before, his absence had been a fresh ache. Now it was an old pain, but it still ripped and tore from time to time, ever present as she went about her usual duties. By now she had a well-off job and had gathered a life for herself. She still hadn't given up hope that he would come home. She still loved him.

And Atem still wrote her every day. By now she had box after box of his letters, tons of them tacked all over her room, framed, all over the house—he was still on her mind constantly. She could still see his face in her mind's eye.

She hoped he would come home soon.

Sometimes, she would feel his absence like a new gash, tearing at her. But she held her head high, reminding herself that he had _promised _he would come home. He still loved her as she still loved him.

But was love really forever?

Mana shook her head at that, sighing. She glanced his picture on the wall. He was so handsome and prominent in his uniform. Those piercing amethyst eyes bore into her, and she quickly looked away, getting back to work.

The letters kept coming. He talked about new recruits and war efforts, how he still wanted to come home and loved her. He said they were getting near to ending it, and that was the best news she had heard—Atem wasn't one to exaggerate. There wasn't much information on what was happening other than that. People lived and went about their usual lives. Mana tried not to worry as she always did.

But then the letters stopped.

Two weeks. Three. The war was close to over according to the others and she still hadn't heard from him.

What had happened to him?

Was he hurt?

Captured?

_Dead?_

_No! _she screamed at herself, holding her head in her hands. _No. He can't be dead. Don't think like that. He _promised, _remember? He said he would. He said he…_

She swallowed. He had to be alright. For her sake and for his, he had to be. She prayed to the gods for guidance and comfort, and prayed for Atem's safety—she prayed for it with all her might.

It was a week later that the visit came.

Standing before her came a man in uniform. His expression was unreadable as he asked to speak to her. Mana immediately knew what it was about. She didn't hear a word he said as he told her of the brave and noble deeds Atem had done, of how he had been invaluable in the war effort. He told her he had gone in the heat of battle, sacrificing himself as a distraction so the others could ambush attack, thus winning the war.

He told her about all the awards he was to be given at the funeral. Of how he would receive the highest possible rewards, and that she, as his future fiancé and betrothed, was entitled to them.

Mana didn't care. She wanted her Atem.

Without listening to the rest of what the uniformed man had to say, she said thank you very quietly and turned away. In her room, she closed the door behind her and tried to hold it in.

It was impossible. Grief came crashing down on her like a wave, causing her knees to shake and her heart to speed. Her legs gave in under her weight, and she collapsed before she made it to her bed. She didn't bother picking herself up off the floor. What was the point?

The tears pooled in her eyes and finally flowed down her tan cheeks with a gasp. "You promised," she choked, "You _promised._ You said you would come home to me." The sobs came, and the pain in her heart was nearly unbearable. It was as if someone had gotten inside her and had fun redecorating without her permission.

Mana curled up on the floor, legs tucked up to her chest, arms curled around them and face buried in her knees.

The following weeks were a blur. _She_ was in her body, but her mind and spirit just weren't there. Her soul was torn. Atem was the only face she ever saw. The only word she ever heard.

It was only at the funeral that she finally seemed to tune back in. The truth suddenly became reality instead of a nightmare.

"You promised," she whispered later that night. "You promised."

A voice came to her, whether it was her consciousness or really him, she couldn't distinguish, but it brought a lashing of anguish across her unstitched heart.

_I tried. I tried._

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><p>… <strong>okay, now I'm depressed. Maybe I <em>will<em> elaborate on this. It depends on if you want to read more.**

**So, I guess that means there's only one thing to do, isn't there? Review! If you have suggestions as to where this should go plot-wise (since I'm a bit clueless) I welcome them!  
><strong>

**-Anevay**


	2. Years before: Courtship

**Disclaimer: No, no I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any other already owned material. I do own the story line, but that's about it…**

A/N: I apologize for the late chapter! :/ Problems in life that I won't get in to. Soooo I wasn't totally positive where to go with this, so I backtracked O_O I mean, it _was _intended to be a one-shot so I just kind of jumped in with the good stuff – sad, romantic and such. You know, considering this _is _a romance and all. So! We're starting at—

Ally: Alright, alright, that's enough babbling, Anevay. _I'll _explain before you go off on some _more_ long unimportant explanation.

Anevay: -_-

*Ally: Starting point: right before, during and slightly after Atem and Mana began courting. That's pretty much all you need to know. Much better than the lengthy explanation Anevay would have given.

Anevay: But they need to know _why _we're starting there!

Ally: Fine! Because it makes the story more interesting/romancy (and longer). Blah, blah, blah, lengthy-Anevay-explanation.

Anevay: can I explain something _please?_

Ally: fine.

Anevay: Thank you. Okay, so there's a reason why I'm being vague with where this is taking place and such—I'm not totally positive where to place the setting, so I'm just going to let you make the setting. Egypt, old war times, wherever.

***Ally: Just to recap: starting right before they were dating, and important moments in the courtship. Why? It's more interesting, long and romancy (fun). Why the vague setting? Because she's not sure where to put it, so just play with it in your head. Imagine it wherever you want: Egypt, old war times, modern war times, etc, wherever. Sorry if that's annoying.**

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><p><em><span>Backtracking—years earlier<span>_

_Courtship_

It all started back when they were just teenagers.

Mana was a beautiful young lady, just barely going in to womanhood. She was fun and exciting and entertaining—and friends with young Atem.

He had a major crush on her, understandably. His hormones were kicking in and he was beginning to like girls as more than friends, and Mana was just his type; he had never thought he would like her that way, seeing as they had been friends for years, but he did.

It was about a year into the crush—when they were seventeen—when Mana brought it up.

Mana plopped down beside him with a look of fierce concentration on her face, turning to him with eyes slitted: "Wussa matter?"

He looked to her in confusion, "Nothing, Mana. Why?"

She shrugged with her lips puckered, still looking at him with curious aquamarine eyes. "You've just been acting weird lately."

Atem turned away and blushed, hoping that she didn't see it. "No I haven't."

Mana leaned in close to him, watching the blush rise further in to his cheeks. "Yeah you have."

He glared at her, mostly playful but partially serious. "No, I don't think I have."

She nodded definitely. "Yes, yes you have. You've been acting weird lately. Different, I mean," she pondered that before elaborating, "Towards me."

"Like how?"

"Oh, you know," she said, smiling and turning away, looking over the clear blue water before them. "Blushing, stuttering, stumbling, having problems talking—etcetera, etcetera." Again, Atem's face flushed and he looked down, trying to find something interesting on the ground. Mana pointed at him: "There! Like that. That just proves my point."

He pushed her shoulder gently, "Stop that, Mana. It does not."

"Yes it does!" she laughed, "How about when I do _this, _then?" she questioned, and before he could ask, moved her face in close to his so that they were barely inches apart, her big eyes playful—but there was also a spark of seriousness, which was new for Mana.

The blood rose in his face and he felt new emotions rise inside him. A desire that he shouldn't feel, but he couldn't shake it off. "M-Mana," he stuttered, hating that it as he did so. "Um…"

"Yes?" she asked, eyes shining. "Hmm?"

"Um…"

"Well go on—say it."

"Say what?" he asked, trying to recover his composure. He turned away, swallowing nervously.

Mana rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Atem, I'm not blind, and you're not exactly good at hiding it."

"Hiding… what?"

"Good heavens, Atem!" she exclaimed, turning him towards her so that they both sat with legs on either side of the bench, barely apart from one another. "We're not kids anymore," she said, fingers gripping his shirt. "You can say it. It can actually amount to something now. If you like me, tell me!"

Involuntarily, he gasped in a quick breath. "Mana, I don't know how. You know I don't have any experience with this sort of thing."

"I already know," she persisted, "So just say it."

"Mana, I like you as more than a friend," he murmured, "But I'm not very good with… this… sort of thing."

"Well then, it's a good thing I am, then, isn't it?" she smiled softly, touching her face to his.

Atem's breath hitched in his throat. Desire raged inside him, finally taking hold. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and his lips found hers.

* * *

><p>"Mana, where did you go?"<p>

There was a giggle from somewhere, sort of vibrating through the air. Atem sighed. He would have to find her now—sort of a game of hide-and-seek, only a lot harder. He could _hear _her but he couldn't _find _her. That Mana.

He paced down the path, hands behind his back. Looking around, he pursed his lips. "Hm," he said, "I wonder where Mana disappeared to."

There was that giggle again.

He rolled his eyes. Mana was always playing games. He took the outdoor pathway one step at a time, glancing around in interest. There were plenty of hiding places: trees, big pots, canopies. She was sure to pick somewhere hard, which would be… anywhere.

Atem decided to quit complaining and just get searching, so that was what he did. He searched in every tree, every pot, and under every canopy in the garden. Naturally, he had to find her in one of the last places he checked. Mana could be quite good at this game when she wanted; other times she wanted him to find her.

Just as he was looking over in to the last pot, Mana popped out with a cry of delight, tackling him to the ground, where she promptly sat on him. He just laughed, "Well, I guess I found you."

"I guess you did," she agreed, grinning.

"Now, could you kindly get off of me?" he asked. Mana sitting on top of him was all-too tempting in ways that would never do. He couldn't think about Mana like that—he loved and respected her too much, and he was a gentleman; that was inappropriate, even if they were courting.

She scrambled off of him and he climbed to his feet, dusting off, but he couldn't help grinning at her. Once he was done dusting off and she was done straightening her dress, he held his hand out to her and she was quick to take it. "Tell me, Mana," he said, "What is the one thing you enjoy doing most?"

Mana cast him a curious glance as they started off down the path. "Spending time with you," she blinked, as if that were obvious.

He smiled. "I mean _other _than that. Something we can do together."

She tapped her cheek, something Atem found rather cute. Her lips puckered, "That's a good question." She kept thinking, aquamarine eyes concentrated on something only she could see. "That's a hard one, Atem."

"Let me elaborate," he decided, "If there was one thing in the entire world that you would enjoy most, what would it be?"

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"That, Atem, is a large request," she smirked, "Let me think a minute…"

He was content to let her do so. Whatever she said, he was determined to make it come true, along with another dream. Anything Mana said, and Atem was usually up for it. What could he say? Mana meant everything to him, as cheesy as that was.

"For how long?" she asked.

He considered. "Let's say a day."

"An entire day," she pondered, "Well that changes things."

He waited patiently, squeezing her hand. He would do just about anything for Mana. He was a patient man, and you had to be if with Mana. She was constantly changing her mind and playing long games such as hide-and-seek, albeit with a few twists here and there that she almost always failed to mention to the other members playing the game.

"Okay," she said, a definitely tone of excitement in her voice. "If you and I were to do anything alone for an entire day, I would want to go on a horseback ride, swim, play games all day, spend the evening in a boat on the water, have a picnic by the sunset, and then end it all with stargazing in a field of tall grass."

"That's specific," he chuckled.

"You asked for an entire days worth of activities," she replied, "We can't let things get boring, so there had to be a variety of things to do. Any reason for the specific question?"

He smiled. "No. Just curious."

"R_ight,_" she smirked, eyes smiling.

* * *

><p>Atem had it all planned out, thanks, in part, to Mana—with a few added surprises of his own.<p>

He dragged her by the hand to the horse stables, where two horses were already saddled: a broad gray one for him, and a sleek dark brown one for her. "Where are we going?" Mana asked innocently.

He smirked, "Out."

She just rolled her eyes.

The horses trotted along the road, and Mana took in the scenes. "You wanna tell me where we're going, or are you going to keep being secretive?"

He chose to be secretive.

As they road, Mana insisted on racing. Atem let her win a few, but he didn't let her get too cocky; he had his fair share of wins. He had to if he was going to keep Mana from guessing that he was _letting _her win, although she did legitimately win some, as he had expected her to. Mana was no daisy.

When they reached the body of water that Atem had planned for them to get to (without Mana knowing) he wasn't surprised when Mana immediately plunged in to the water, dress and all. He managed to convince her to put on something more suitable, hanging her dress out to dry, and they swam for a good portion of the day.

At lunch, they ate under the shade of a large tree on a convenient stump. Mana chatted about games they could play after they finished eating, and Atem was content to listen, laughing and contributing when he felt he needed to.

After lunch, they set to playing the games Mana had made a list of:

Hide-and-seek, Mana style

Catch the squirrel (tag)

End of the World

So What

I Spy

That was as far as her list extended—so far, although he was sure she would add more. Mana always did. It was half the fun for her.

_So What_ was one of Mana's favorite games, and they spent hours playing it. It didn't make much sense, actually.

"Hey, Atem."

"So what?"

"So what, Atem?"

"So what, what, Mana?"

"So what, you're confusing me."

"So what, I usually do."

"So what?"

"So what, so what?"

"So what?"

"Are you confused now?"

"Yes," Mana laughed, "Start over!"

"So what, we're starting over." Atem began.

"So what, you're better at this game than I am."

"So what?"

"So what, you're old," Mana smiled, prancing backwards beside the water.

"So what, so are you."

"So what, you're mean."

"So what, I'm courting you."

"So what, I still love you."

"So what, that's a good thing."

"So what, you're saying you don't care?"

Atem laughed. "Now we're entering dangerous water, my dear."

"So what, I win!"

"So what?"

At which point she kissed his cheek, dragging him off to play the next game on her list: I Spy. After that, they had a scavenger hunt, which, to Mana, was a lot like hide-and-seek, only with objects. By the time they finished, it was nearly evening.

He intertwined their fingers, tugging her towards the water. "Let's go."

"On the water?" she perked. When he didn't respond, she beamed and moved ahead of him, pulling him after her instead. "I love being on a boat!"

"I know," he smiled, "That's why we're going on a boat."

"Smart-alike."

"I never said I wasn't," he smirked slightly, helping her in to the small boat. Settling in after her, he pushed off with an oar and settled in the rear end so that he was facing Mana, where he began rowing.

"It's so beautiful," Mana swooned, letting her fingers trail in the water.

Atem let out a satisfied breath, watching her as he rowed. Today, so far, had been one of the best days of his life, and he was hoping it would get even better later. The thought of sunset brought a knot of anticipation to his stomach, but he didn't mind. Much.

The boat ride was relaxing and romantic, much to both of their enjoyment, and just as the sun began to fall, Atem steered them back to shore. Mana was practically bouncing out of her seat, and when he hauled the boat to shore, she didn't even wait for him to help her out. She simply bolted up the hill in her flowing dress, turning to him impatiently as he washed off his hands and followed at a slower pace.

"Come on, slow-poke!" she called, plopping down on the crest of the hill to wait for him.

When he was sure she wasn't looking, he slipped the hidden picnic materials on to his arm and joined her on the hill, spreading out a soft cloth for them to sit on.

"A picnic?" she beamed, "I love it!" Her eyes sparkled with the knowledge of what he was about to do, and _she _didn't look nervous at all, which calmed his own knotted stomach.

They ate in relative silence, sharing smiles. He tucked the remains away when they had completed their meal, bringing out a different box: a smaller one that he gripped in a sweaty hand. _Gross, _he thought, wiping it on the grass and shaking it to make sure it worked. _Better, _he nodded to himself.

Atem rested back on his hands, while Mana sat between his legs and relaxed against his chest. Together, they watched the sun go down, breathing softly. When it was just about to disappear, Atem decided it was the right time.

Casually, he rested his hand on her thigh and opened the box with his thumb.

Mana's finger hovered over what rested inside, listening to Atem's gentle breathing and feeling the rhythmic movement of his chest against her back. She knew her answer. After all, she had known this was coming. She had known ever since he had asked her that question not a week and a half before. It had been good to have some time to prepare; for both of them.

Atem's lips pressed against her temple, silently and patiently waiting for her to answer. He didn't have to ask the question, and really, Mana didn't have to answer. She plucked the ring from the box, and Atem took if from her so that he could slip it on her left hand. Then his warm embrace wrapped around her and she felt a light feeling of happiness spread through her chest.

When night came, they laid down in the long grass, just like Mana had wanted, and held hands, staring up at the stars. They talked quietly, not wanting to disturb the natural peace that nature always seemed to bring.

Staring up at the stars, Atem's arms around her, and his lips on her cheek, Mana couldn't help but think that this was the perfect ending to a perfect day. Cheesy, yes, but still true.

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><p><span>Anevay<span>: Huzzah for _that! _

Ally: Whatever _that _is.

Anevay: What, you didn't like it?

Ally: No, I did! I do enjoy romance, you know.

Anevay: Well, good. So what did everybody else think? Anyway, T&R!

Reviewers: **Nick-Arach, Aqua girl 007, Velgamidragon, princess atemma, Midna Azusa, Khemet- Egyptian vampire, Chistarpax, Cometflight525, me(x2), REDxYELLOW, SerenePanic, & fan person.**

Anevay: Thanks to everyone for the compliments and sentiments! I know it is depressing, and I did intend to leave it that way, but with all the people suggesting that I continue, I was really tempted and so I had to.

Ally: Babbling, Anevay.

Anevay: I know, I know, thanks for pointing that out again, Al. Anyway, you know what you gotta do now, right?

Both: REVIEW!

-Anevay & Ally

(Ally switches it)

-Ally and Anevay

Ally: much better. Shh! Don't tell Anevay!


	3. Going to War

**Disclaimer: do I look like a Japanese (man, no less) animator to you? No? Didn't think so.**

A/N: Alrighty! In this chapter we're skipping ahead a bit more, so—

Ally: yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, let _me _explain it.

Anevay: If you're going to keep doing this, I'm kicking you out of my author's notes.

Ally: No, wait! I take it back! Explain! Just don't _kick me out! _I actually _like _this job, and if Jess finds out I'm not actually studying/working and doing _this _instead…!

Anevay: Fine, fine. I'll spare you the torture. So _thank _you. Explanation below, and I'll try to make it as short and explanatory as possible.

***PLEASE READ! **This chapter takes place right before Atem goes in to the war, with a few of the more important scenes between them and someone else I love. Enjoy!

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><p><em>Going to War<em>

Atem had been talking with Mahad about joining the troops for weeks. Almost months, really.

Mahad had already elected to join, and before he could sign up, he had been recruited. It wasn't exactly surprising. Not only was Mahad muscled, tall, well-built and a good fighter, he was a Magician, and so therefore was an obvious choice for a soldier. He was sure to be given a higher position straight away.

There was also the fact that Mahad was unceasingly loyal. Before long, that fact would be noticed, and not only would he most likely have a leadership position, he would be trusted as well.

It wasn't long after Mahad had been recruited that Atem, too, was approached by an officer.

There was a knock at the door.

The man in uniform saluted Atem. "Is this the home of a mister Atem?"

Atem gave a natural salute and nodded, "That would be me, sir."

The man looked him up and down and seemed to like what he saw – which was, hopefully, a soldier. He gave a brisk nod and held out a rolled piece of official documentation. The soldier stood at parade rest as Atem unrolled it and read over it fairly quickly. He couldn't help the roll of emotions raging inside him: excitement, anticipation, confidence, and… sadness. Mana.

Atem, too, fell to parade rest and saluted the soldier. "Inform the General that I, Atem, accept the recruitment. I shall take my place in the army."

The officer saluted Atem with a gleam of respect in his eyes. Atem recognized him as a man from around, and most everyone knew Atem. They knew he was madly in love, and for that, the soldier had to respect his decision to serve the people and the country. He gave a brisk nod, "Welcome to the army, soldier. We salute you." Both men sharply dropped their salutes, and then the deliver of the news was on his way.

Atem retreated inside, and once there, stared down at the paper held loosely in his hand. His fingers were shaking. He closed his eyes, fist clenched around his future. _What am I supposed to tell Mana?_

* * *

><p>He consulted Mahad, first. Surely he would have some advice.<p>

He did.

Mahad sighed, "Mana will not take it well."

As if Atem hadn't known _that, _of all things. Great advice, Mahad.

"I know," he said, annoyed. He paced, "How am I supposed to tell her without…?" he trailed off, but he didn't have to finish for Mahad to understand. _How am I supposed to tell her without getting a bad reaction? _He knew how Mana felt about the war: she hated it. Already, they had lost friends to recruitment. She would be upset when she found out that her fiancé _and _her almost-brother had both been recruited.

"You might as well get it over with, Atem," Mahad said heavily.

Atem raised an eyebrow at that. "You mean _we _might as well get it over with? I believe _you _have the same news to tell her that I do, Mahad."

Mahad couldn't argue with that.

They smiled when they saw her, but she could tell that they were hiding something. She could always tell. Briefly, she kissed Atem. "What's up?"

Mahad looked to Atem, who sighed and took Mana's hands, smiling. There was something genuine to it, but at the same time, there _was _some sadness there. "We have some news, Mana."

She already knew. All he had to do was say those words, and she already knew what he was going to say. Her eyes dropped, and she asked softly, "You were recruited, weren't you?"

Atem didn't say anything, and her worst suspicions were confirmed. She should have known this would happen. She had seen the way he hungrily watched the soldiers as they came through town for recruitment, the look of longing in his eyes. Mahad had the same look, sometimes, although not nearly as eager as Atem. He craved it. Most men did, she thought bitterly.

The recruiting officers had skirted around them for some time due to their engagement, and Atem would never outright approach them and offer himself without consulting Mana, but in the end, it had been inevitable. They needed men like Atem: strong, confident, capable and willing.

They needed men thirsting for this kind of thing, and Mahad and Atem were just the men for the job.

Mahad rubbed her arm, "I am sorry, Mana, but I need to do this. Atem does as well. You know this."

Atem patted his friend's arm, "Thank you, Mahad." The Magician gave a sort of bow, gripping their clasped hands with one of his long-fingered ones briefly before leaving them alone.

For a moment neither said anything, and just as Atem got up the courage to speak, Mana, eyes closed tightly, suddenly threw her arms around Atem's torso, letting the tears free. They flowed down her cheeks, but she didn't give herself away and cry audibly. She had to be strong. She _wouldn't _let him see her tears.

This was what Atem wanted, and for once, she would let him do what he so desperately wanted to do. He always did what _she _wanted to do—it was all about Mana for him, and this time, it was time for him to do something for himself, and for his country. This was what he wanted, and Mana wasn't going to be selfish and keep him to herself.

Her rubbed her back soothingly, speaking softly, "I'm so sorry, Mana. I had to accept. I can't… I can't sit on the sidelines when I know I should be doing something more." His voice cracked, "As much as I want to stay here, with you, there's more that I need to do. Especially when I know I can."

In spite of herself, Mana felt her insides glow with pride and warmth for him. Atem was a man to be proud of, after all. He was brave and courageous, and no, she decided, she couldn't be selfish and keep him all to herself. She had to share him with the world, where he could do so much good.

Mana gripped him tightly, and he returned the pressure. "I know," she whispered, "They need a man like you out there. You'll be an amazing soldier. I won't stop you."

_I doubt you could, _he thought. _I don't think even I can stop me. _

* * *

><p>From the day of his decision and onward, Mana spent every moment she could with both Atem and Mahad. After all, there was always the possibility that she would never see them again…<p>

_No, no,_ Mana thought hastily, _Atem will come back. Mahad will come back. They will.  
><em>

She was already in denial.

The day of leaving grew nearer. Mana had never seen Atem so excited and animated. It was almost all he talked about, when he wasn't around her. He and Mahad couldn't shut up about it. They really wanted to do this. Who was Mana, an insignificant girl that loved them both dearly, to stop them?

The day came. They almost couldn't believe it.

Out where the troops were preparing to leave, they were surrounded by loved ones: embracing, crying, talking quietly, smiling, holding themselves back so that they wouldn't beg them to leave, and enjoying one another's company while they could. There were rumors that it was going to be a dangerous war. Who knew how many of these men would return home alive?

For a moment, Mana stood at the door to leave with her eyes glazed with threatening tears, faced with the possibility of living without her two best friends: her near-brother and the love of her life. How could she simply let them go? Just like that?

Could she? Or would she selfishly keep them to herself?

Could she even hold them back? Keep them from going? She highly doubted it. They had their hearts set on this. On war: fighting, bloodshed, wounds, screams, tears, pain, loss, gore, sadness, anger. How could they have their hearts set on _that? _

Her head snapped up and she gasped. There was no time for this! She had to have as much time as she could to tell them goodbye. She had told herself that she would make it through this, and so would they. They had already decided to go; she doubted a little girl like herself could convince them otherwise.

Mana yanked the door open and sprinted her way there, cursing herself for wasting time worrying. What was the point in that, anyway?

Upon arriving, she almost immediately spotted Atem and Mahad. They weren't exactly hard to miss: one tall, carrying a staff, and the other rather short with a mess of golden-blonde, black and magenta hair that almost made up for his loss of height. She almost smiled at that thought—almost.

Mana wasted no time getting to them. Others around them moved aside for her, expressions grim. Almost everyone knew of Atem and Mana's engagement, and their betrothing years before that thanks to their parents—Atem and Mana were a popular couple, and well-liked. No one liked seeing them separated, but that was life, wasn't it?

Mahad gave Mana a twinkling smile as she embraced him tightly, her stomach in knots at the thought of losing either of them. "Be safe, Mahad," she said, attempting a brave smile and blinking quickly to hide the tears. "You're an incredible Magician. You'll make a great soldier."

"Thank you, Mana," he dipped his head, and then grabbed her shoulder, muttering: "I'll keep him safe, Mana, I promise. You know I will."

Mana beamed and kissed his cheek. "I know. Keep yourself safe too, okay?" Again, he nodded. It was the most assuring condolence he could give in the case of war.

Now she turned to Atem, and she couldn't help the tears that pooled in her eyes, despite her smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly tackled him in a hug. In happier times, he would have laughed and made a joke, but not now. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

Mana clutched at him, and this time, her face grew wet as the salt-water tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away, because then she would have to let him go, and that would never do at a time like this—not when her time to hold him was so limited. And, still trying to be brave, she didn't let the sobs escape her; she only clutched him harder, silently begging: _please, don't leave me._

Mana was unsurprised when she brought her face around to see his, still holding him close, to fine that he wasn't crying. His eyes looked wet, but he didn't cry; Atem rarely cried. There was still that insane gleam of excitement in them, mixed with the sorrow of leaving her. But no, he didn't cry. Crying, he had once told her, was for weak men. He didn't cry.

He smiled, "I'm not leaving forever, Mana, I'll be back." He stroked her face, his ancient amethyst eyes smiling. "There's no need to cry, my brave one. You're letting me do something any other sane women would leave a man for, thinking he wouldn't return, and yet, you hold on." Gently, his lips graced her forehead, soft as the petals of a rose. Her fingers clasped his hand to her face. "I promise, my love, I _will _return to you. You trust me, don't you?" he asked this part softly, gaze intent on hers.

Helpless to his will, Mana nodded. "More than anyone," she whispered, "Atem…"

Before either could say anything more, the men began to move away. They were leaving.

Mana grew desperate, her heart racing and breath quickening as she stared desperately in to his eyes for what may well be the last time. That thought sent her in to a panic. Atem soothed her, his eyes reassuring and his words soft. "Mana, I love you," he told her softly, meant for her only. "No matter what happens, I _will _return to you, you hear me? Wait for me."

"I will," she breathed, "I'll wait for you, Atem, I love you. Come back to me."

Their lips met in a desperate, passionate and yet brief kiss. His fingers trailed along her cheek, leaving wisps of memories, and his supple lips were on the skin of her neck, cheek, and forehead before they were gone. Her last memory of him was seeing his confident smile as he and Mahad moved away, hands moving down her arms and then caressing her fingers until they slipped away, disappearing in to the air, as hard to hold on to as smoke.

They didn't break their gaze until the crowd of men moved between them. Mana felt a moment of ridiculous panic—she had to see him one last time. Running, she climbed on to a pole as a vantage point, and searched frantically for him, the tears making stains on her tan cheeks.

She spotted him one last time, and for a moment, they were able to share a smile before he leapt in to the leaving port with the other men. Mahad flashed a reassuring glance, and all Mana could say with her eyes was a look of pleading that Mahad bring them both home. She wouldn't be able to live without them. Her heart would shatter.

She stayed on that pole for a long time, watching them go. She sat there long after the others had left, willing them with safety. Now all she could do was wait, and that would be the most agonizing part of it all. Waiting, listening, and praying.

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: (breaths out in satisfaction) Done.

Ally: Yep.

Anevay: That's it? Yep? That's all you have to say?

Ally: Oh, I mean: WHOOOO-P! I thought you knew how good you were, so I didn't think you needed a reminder.

Anevay: Oh, right—thanks, Ally. Anyway, T&R:

Reviewers: **SerenePanic, fan person, Chistarpax **&** me**!

**SerenePanic**: haha thanks, I know, it was meant to be confusing! ;) anyway, thanks!  
><strong>fan person<strong>: Yeah, that's where I kind of was :) or just somewhere romantic ha. Don't worry, Mana, no sadness! Yeah, I figured you wouldn't mind, since you don't like the depression/romance all that much ha. Next story, k? ^o^

**Chistarpax**: I know, that's why I had to give it a better ending. I don't think I'll ever be able to write a real one-shot ha. Anywho, thank you! XD

**Me**: Aw, thank you! You flatter me ^O^ I'm glad you liked it!

Well, I guess that's it for today.

Ally: Aren't you forgetting something?

Anevay: … oh yeah! Ally, would you do the honors?

Ally: Hecks yes. You know the word! Review!

-Anevay & Ally

(Ally: Nope, nope…)

-Ally & Anevay


	4. The War

**Disclaimer: ha, nope, don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Not even any DVD's of the seasons. I just watch 'em online—that's how sad the fact it that I don't own them.**

A/N: Sorry, folks! You guys know how I have my, ah, obsessions? Yu-Gi-Oh! is one of them, sure, and you should know that another one is X-files (AWEsome), and my latest obsession? The Mentalist. Love it! Gotta have it… anyway… Ally?

Ally: So _I'll _explain her reasons for not updating in the last while. She's been busy with family and friend stuff. Hey, it's summer! She does what she wants. So here's the next chapter. I'm pretty sure it explains itself.

**Warning: rating may go up because of inferred violence.**

* * *

><p><em>The War<em>

All his training had finally paid off.

He saluted his General, "Thank you, sir."

The General returned the salute: "At ease, Captain." He smiled, dropping the salute and nodding in acknowledgement of his new title. "You know who is in your squad, correct?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Atem said briskly.

"Good," the General said, "I suggest you have them ready."

Atem gave another brisk salute, "Sir, yes, sir." Then he turned on his heel and marched away, but he couldn't help the smile that grew on his face. Captain. He was moving up in the ranks. As he returned to their encampment, Mahad stood and gave him a questioning look. Atem smirked and gave a thumbs-up, "I am now your Captain, Sergeant Mahad."

Mahad grinned, chuckling slightly and moving to shake his hand. "I never had any doubt."

From there, he moved up in the ranks. Eventually, he too became a General. No one was exactly surprised—he was the obvious and best choice for a leader. Cool, collected, head-strong, stubborn, confident and more. Everyone under and above him respected him. When others were in a panicked frenzy, he remained calm and dealt with said problems as they came.

Despite his high ranking and the constant need for his aid, he still found the time to write Mana—even out on the field. Even if he just wrote snippets now and then to add to it, he managed to come up with entire letters describing his encounters with the enemy, during training, duties and such and, of course, he deep love and longing for her.

One long, lonely day there was a mutual feeling of loss all over the camp as they mourned the deaths of many of their troops and friends in a recent heated and long battle, coupled with the fact that it was the anniversary of their leaving home three years before. A melancholy and an odd, rather decadently depressing feeling hung in the air. Many of the soldiers avoided to one another, drinking and smoking, writing to loved ones or gambling, or in other cases, simply lazing around trying to find purpose again. It seemed as though the war would never end.

Atem himself was having a particularly difficult time putting a positive spin on things. It was nearly impossible. Even Mahad, usually so resilient and strong, sat in the corner, writing and thinking to himself. He kept lighting a pipe with his staff, as if tempted to smoke it, but knowing that he shouldn't and probably wouldn't have the guts to—after all, he kept reminding himself, it wouldn't solve anything. But lighting it was something to do and so, he kept lighting and relighting it.

Mahad even seemed mesmerized by the idle little flame, flicking in to existence before shuttering out at the Magician's will. Atem eventually found himself staring at it too and comparing it to the war. One moment, there would seem to be hope; a light at the end of the tunnel—and the next… darkness; nothing but despair, loss, violence, and loneliness. The loss of light and of warmth, like that of the flame. And, he thought with a deep regret, the loss of love.

He closed his eyes, tearing them away from the pipe. Just like Mahad relighting it over and over, the war kept on going and events seemed to recur: over, and over, and over, and over. And over. An endless, tireless, cycle.

Victory. Loss. Victory. Loss. Victory. Loss. Victory. Loss.

Downing a glass of wine, his hand quivered over the parchment, pen poised. _Mana, _he wrote, and then stopped. He snapped his fingers for more of the drink, and as it was refilled, he tried again. To his surprise, it became one of the longest letters he had ever written to Mana.

_Mana,_

_My feelings are… hard to describe, at the moment. We have just suffered a huge loss; _millions_, dead. Friends, troops—good men. Good soldiers. All gone. It's not as if it's the first enormous loss we've suffered, but it has hit us hard, especially on a day like this. Why did it have to happen today? Of all days, couldn't it have avoided _this _day? The day we _all_ needed a break from the violence of war?_

_It has been exactly three years since we have seen our friends and our families—our homes. Three years since we've had the creature comforts of a plushy life, good food, and love. Three years since we have seen day after day of joy and happiness, of the good omens of life. Three years since I have seen you._

_There is no good life here. War is not good: not good for the mind, the soul, or the body. All it holds is torture for all aspects of human nature._

_I do not mean to be so melancholy, but today, it_ is _hard to find anything good in the world. All I can think is that I must be grateful that I am alive, and that Mahad is alive. Also, that you are away from all this. You, Mana, are the spark in my heart that drives me onward when there is no other light to see. The light at the end of the tunnel—one which I must reach at all costs, or I may never see the light of day again. Nor, no, the light of humanity. It's hard to believe that humans can be so… dark and cold-hearted. Even our own men have become hard-hearted to light. They believe that brutality can only be fought in kind: with brutality. Fighting fire with fire. That never truly wins wars, or anything, for that matter. It may, in the end, but all it causes is loss and pain…but I won't dwell on such a subject any longer._

_I must admit that I'm in a somewhat nostalgic mood. Today, my longing for you, for your touch and your smile and for the _easy _days, are almost too much for me to bear. But I know that one day, all of this will go away, and you and I can be together again. In my heart I know it isn't far away, and that _you _are not far away. You're in my dreams, and my heart. And one day, hopefully soon, I shall hold you in my arms again._

_Mana… I hope you are well, and that your love for me has not faded. If so, my experiences and my desires are for naught. I must confess my feelings. I've been away for two years, and for all I know, you could be off with some other man while I am away. I wouldn't blame you. It's a lonely life for a woman, waiting for men of war. Though it would break my heart, and does just thinking about you in the arms of another, I would not hold it against you. My love for you still holds strong as it always will. But if there is another, perhaps it would be better that I knew—that way, I could do something overly drastic to end this war and die for the cause. It would not be a terrible way to go. Better than most. Forgive me for my mood, my dear. It is… hard to remain positive in such circumstances._

_Perhaps I should close this letter, now. I feel the tide is turning with this loss. Whether for the better or for the worse, I fear for us all. The enemy will not go down easily. I also feel that the war will soon end, but you know me and my hunches. I may be right most of the time, but it would be foolish to place much hold on the simple feelings of a general. It may be a year, it may be two, but from this day forward, things will be different. And I'm going to make sure of it. Feelings in the camps, the depressions and recent suicides… they must end, and they must end today, or we have already lost._

_Unequivocally yours,_

_Atem_

He sat back, observing the long and rather uneven writing. It would normally have been neat, once, but today was not one of those days.

"There you are, General," said the soldier, eyes sad. Atem realized with surprise that he had filled the glass of wine for the third time since he had begun the letter. He hadn't even realized he had been drinking it. He wasn't generally a heavy drinking—he always drank it sparingly, if hardly ever to not at all. He wasn't the drinking type, and yet, here he sat, on his fourth glass of wine.

That previous feeling of hopelessness that had hung over him was slowly replaced by the feeling of the words he had written in his letter: resolute, yet confident. He couldn't afford to be a drunk general like the others. He had higher standards than that.

Yet that lost, lonely feeling wavered, and he brought the muggy glass up. He hesitated, tip pressed to his chapped, red lips. It trembled there for a moment, his hand shaking. Atem closed his lips and brought the glass to rest on his thigh. He eyed the liquid. The prospect of loosing all sense was alluring, just as the pipe was to Mahad, who, coincidentally, had the pipe dithering between his own lips, reluctant, yet tempted. Seduced.

Atem poured the wine on the ground, where it made a soft splashing sound.

"Take it away," he said in finality, nudging the wine. The soldier, a gleam of respect in his eyes, saluted and hurried to do as he was asked. Atem glanced at Mahad; he looked him in the eye, and finally, Mahad distinguished the pipe for the final time, dropping it to the ground.

The General stood.

Straight backed, regal in posture, and the picture of cool, he eyed the men of his squad. "Men!" he called, gathering the attention of his troops. "Soldiers. Comrades. We mustn't be so glum. We may have lost today, but we cannot let that get the better of us, nor the fact that we have been away from our loved ones for three years now." He held up a hand at the indignant looks. "I know you do not need to be reminded, and I apologize, truly I do, but we all needed to hear it. It is a fact. We are, as men, here for a reason: the protection of our _families_, of our friends. Of the innocent and of that which is right! Do you believe in our cause?"

He paused at that, looking around into the eyes of the soldiers. Some avoided his gaze; others held steady, with a bold expression that showed their true beliefs, and their belief in him as a leader. Still, no one spoke.

"I will ask you again," he said softly, gaze bold. "Do you believe in our cause? In that which we fight for? Our wives, our children, our families, our friends—our lovers and our homes. I myself have a fiancée waiting for me," he whispered, and couldn't help the salt-water that wetted his eyes. "_I _believe in this cause. I believe that we are doing that which is right. _I _believe. Do you?"

Many nodded, and the longer he sat there, giving them the death glare, the more piped up, giving brief cheers and cries of hope; the more held their heads high and their shoulders back. As he stared around at them and they realized the truth of his words, they sat up straight and looked him square in the face, without doubt and with a conviction of justice. Someone clapped, slowly and rhymically.

Atem looked around, and was unsurprised to find that it was Mahad, smiling at him and nodding. He stood and stomped on his discarded pipe. He held his fist high in the air as a show of respect.

The other men joined him, taking up cheers and applause. They had new hope, now. The feeling of melancholy in the air had lifted, somewhat, although not completely.

They began to chant: "General, General, General, General!" and cheers followed. Wine bottles were smashed, beer was poured on the ground and kegs of ale were tossed in to the air, where they shot them with their weapons. It was an unconventional and merry show of enthusiasm.

Atem smiled around at his men, holding his own fist in the air. He respected them, too.

General Atem looked to the first man who had begun to clap, knowing he had really gotten it started and that he would always remain the most loyal. _Thank you, Mahad, _he smiled. Mahad returned the grin.

From then on, the air and feeling of the camps grew to be more hopeful than downtrodden. There was a bare minimum of drinking and gambling, and the suicides all but stopped for weeks at a time. Things were happier—not joyful or triumphant, no, nothing like that; but they were more hopeful. There was light now.

* * *

><p>Later, Atem got his reply from Mana. Several letters came at once, but he didn't mind. The others let him sit back and read them.<p>

He read the most recent letter, the reply to his most recent send.

_Atem,_

_I've never read such a letter from you! You almost seem… hopeless. Please, Atem, don't loose your hope. That's one thing you've _got _to have! Don't talk like that, you hear me?_

_Atem, how could you talk like that? How could you even have a _single thought _about me with someone else? I don't _want, desire, long for, or need _anyone else but you! I love you! Don't ever intentionally harm yourself, Atem, alright? If you do I'll hang you by your ears! My love and care for you will never change. You're the only man I want to be with. Why else would I wait for you? You and I have been friends for years on end. I could never picture myself with anyone but you: my best friend. You're perfect and _right _for me! I would rather dye my hair black than be with another man, and you _know _how I feel about dying my hair _anything. Especially black. _Don't be insane. Have you been drinking again?_

_I can only assure with all my heart that I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever—EVER, _EVER _(times infinity), be with anyone else but you. I would never break your heart. I want you to come home more than anything. Every time I go to sleep, I have dreams… dreams that you'll come home and hold me again, and that we'll play more games and have more days like the day you proposed. I do love you, Atem, more than anything. You believe me, don't you? I know that you love me, so you _must _believe me. You have no choice, right? Of course you don't._

_On your other news, if you feel like the war may be close to ending, that's the best news I've heard, well, ever! Your hunches are usually right, but I'll try not to get my hopes up. I know how you feel about _that, _and it'll only hurt us both if you're wrong._

_Don't worry, things are fine over here. I've always got a few guys trying to get me to go out with them, but if they get anywhere near me, I slap them silly and tell them that my fiance is out to war, and when he gets back—and he will—you'll be in a world of trouble. It usually gets them off my tail; well, that and your dad. He's sweet._

_Hang tough, darling, I know how strong you are. You'll make it through, and I'm sure you're one heck of a General, as always! Love you always._

_The-bestest-and-most-amazing-lover-of-your-life,_

_Mana_

Atem had to smile at her heated response. He felt an old feeling grown in his chest. For a moment, he looked up, that happy smile plastered on his face, until he realized that it was joy. And laughter. He chuckled at what Mana had used to sign off. She had that right. He tucked her letter away on his person, still grinning. _I love you too, Mana, _he thought. She knew it, too, so he knew that there was no need to write it down—but he still would.

* * *

><p>The sirens blared. Red alert.<p>

Atem looked up, bolting outside to rally his troops. To his surprise, they were already getting in to ranks, but he wasted no time helping them along. "Move it, move it!" he demanded in his loud baritone. "We're on high alert, men! We don't have time to gander and wander about! _Get a move on, that's it!"_

They marched, with him at the head. The commanders on either side called the count: "Left, right, left! March!"

This, Atem knew, was going to be a high stakes battle. Perhaps the highest, and possibly even the turning point in the war. They could end this today.

_Today, _he mused, _there's always something significant when one says 'today.'_

But he couldn't be thinking like that yet. They had to get to the battlefield first.

When they did arrive, luckily it wasn't bloodshed yet. They were still on opposite sides of the field, strategizing as war-camps and war-leaders liked to do, even if just to pass the time and deny the inevitable fighting. Atem entered the generals tent, meeting up with the others to do such strategizing. He already had a plan formulating in his head, but it would be risky.

The War-leader looked to him. "What do you think, General Atem?"

Atem pursed his lips, debating how to put it. "I think we should create a distraction," he began. "Pool our resources and hit them when they bite."

The others nodded thoughtfully. "Go on," the War-leaders said.

So he did.

When he had explained the gist of his plan, there was silence as they thought it over, then one of them spoke up. "Who will lead the distraction?"

Atem smiled, "I was thinking I would."

For a moment, no one said anything. Was he just trying to get all the glory to himself if this worked? They shrugged philosophically. Either way, it was his plan, and it was a good one, so he would probably get a lot, if not all, of the glory anyway. If they won. That was debatable, but it _was _a good plan.

"I've got a good squad," Atem convinced them, "Three Magicians, too. They're all well-trained, as are my troops."

"It's a dangerous gamble," muttered the War Lord. "But it just might work."

So they agreed. The plan was set.

Atem and his squad of thousands, against their millions, marched out across the grounds with Atem in the lead—under a white flag of temporary truce, to parlay. Atem knew how they would take it, and he knew he was taking a big risk with this, but they needed something to draw a large force away from the main party. That would reduce the numbers being fought.

While he distracted them, the larger army behind had faded away to surround them in case the other army decided to attack instead of parlay—which they would, in the end.

"This is suicide," Mahad murmured beside him.

Atem shook his head. "Not if we play this right."

He hoped.

A man in armor greeted them half way across, a large group of men around him for protection. "What is this?" he demanded in a thick accent.

Atem raised an eyebrow. "A white flag. Temporary truce to parlay."

The man gave an impatient gesture, "I know that, you fool, but why?"

"I thought we might be able to end this peacefully," Atem said calmly, "Without bloodshed. The loss of life is not worth it if we can communicate peacefully and reasonably."

The man spat on the ground. "That bridge should have been crossed long ago."

As they spoke, Atem's men spanned out behind him. "So I take it you don't want to parlay?" he asked.

"No!" the man laughed, "Of course not."

Atem bowed. "Well, I thank you for playing along then. I never expected you to take the white flag. Mahad?" All the while, the soldiers on either side were crouching, preparing to fight. Mahad stepped up beside him with the white flag. At a snap of Atem's fingers, he ripped it in half. Atem smiled: "Prepare to die."

All hell broke loose.

Both sides collided, and the small party that had come to confront them fell in moments; they had been outnumbered, but now Atem's men were outnumbered.

That was when the rest of his plan kicked in.

The rest of the army, having surrounded the enemy while they conversed, broke through the surrounded trees and hills and attacked with war cries and, in some cases, screams of terror. Though the surrounding armies were outnumbered against their foes, Atem's plan of surrounding them was working. Chaos had broken out within the enemy armies, and thanks to General Atem, they were sure to win this battle and perhaps the war as long as they held the advantage.

However, Atem's forces were growing dangerously low. They were being separated. He had to rally them.

As he turned to call to his remaining men, he spotted another general and his army riding to his aid. He began to speak: "Don't give up! We could win today! Just keep fighting! A—" whatever he had been about to say was cut short.

Time seemed to slow as the first arrow hit him in the shoulder. It nearly stopped when the second took him in the gut. As if that hadn't been bad enough, when the third took him in the lower chest, the world all but stopped spinning. That was when the trio of darts hit him in the arm, and an enemy trooper smashed a makeshift weapon, a board, into his legs. He didn't even need that incentive to collapse—he was all but dead.

General Atem, crashed to the ground, amethyst eyes shocked and distant. _No, _he thought, _it's not supposed to end this way._

Mahad stared, mouth agape. His breath came shallow and quick. His legs almost wouldn't support him as he watched his long time friend fall to the ground, the man with the board standing over him. _"NO!" _Mahad screamed, _"NO! ATEM!"_

Rage, horror, anguish, sorrow—a mix of emotions boiled inside him, and his staff came forward. There was a blast from his staff, taking out all enemy soldiers within fifty feet of him. The next spell hit the man with the board, and he disintegrated on the spot. The next foes to feel his wrath were the archers and dart throwers. The enemy scattered, but Mahad wasn't finished yet.

If it were retold, it would have been said that Mahad took out half of the enemies' soldiers. That, of course, was an exaggeration, although not by much.

When all was said and done, what was left of the enemy scattered. The battle, and the war, had been won.

There were cheers, but Mahad didn't share in their jubilee, and the cries of triumph were half-hearted. They had lost a lot of good men that day—the worst loss, was Atem. Everything seemed to be hazy to Mahad. Stumbling, the Magician searched for his friend's body. To his confusion, he couldn't find it. Desperately casting a spell, he was puzzled to find that Atem's trail followed the retreating enemy—what was left of them.

He came over a horrible realization. They had taken his friend's body.

_No, _he thought, _NO. _

Driven by his sorrow and anger, he somehow managed to find the strength to fly, and followed the General's trail. He _would _get him back, dead or alive, and he would return to Mana to tell her himself…

Dread, anguish, grief—they all fought for a place in his heart and mind, but at the moment, he had to be focused solely on finding Atem's body. He owed it to Mana, and especially to Atem.

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: There ya go. What do you think? My grammar and sense kind of abandon me at three in the morning, so…

Ally: I'm just really depressed DX _whyyyyyyy? _You are truly evil.

Anevay: …

T&R!

Reviewers: **ThePursuit**,** me(x3)**,** SerenePanic**,** fan person**,** Chistarpax**,** RedRosePetal(x2)**,&** jj**!

**ThePursuit**: Thank you! I'm glad you think so! ^o^

**Me**: Thanks! ;) sorry, no Bakura this story. Too rhetorical.

**SerenePanic**: Seriously :P there are so many torture-Yugi stories, si? Hah really—poor Mana. Anyway, thanks much!

**Fan person**: sorry Mana—just remember that you're my favorite! Oh, the fun of other characters/people that don't belong coming in through open doors. Hey, you don't have to read this story if you don't want to. It's not like I'm forcing you! Don't feel obligated or anything. If you're uncomfortable, don't hurt yourself! I would rather you're comfortable. I don't mind if you don't want to read it.

**Chistarpax**: :( then you really can relate to this, in a way! Hope all goes well. Thank you much for all your wonderful reviews!

**RedRosePetal**: Welcome back! XD glad you're liking ;)

**jj**: Well, I _was _considering doing just a regular Lion King plot based one, but I dunno, it would seem kind of obvious/rhetorical. But Lion King 2? Eh. Possibly. If I do the first one, then I might. I'm just not much of a fan of Lion King 2, but I'll think about it!

Ally: Hey, Anevay, it's your turn!

Anevay: Oh, okay! You're right, I usually don't do this… but, review!

-Anevay and Ally

(Ally: you already knew I was going to do this)

-Ally and Anevay


	5. Prisoners of War

**Disclaimer: do I _really_ have to spell it out for you? I. Don't. Own. Yu-Gi-Oh!**

A/N: sorry I haven't been very committed for a while :P it's my newest obsession… yes, it's The Mentalist! And I will tell you WHY I'm in love with this show, since you'll undoubtedly hear about it more – not that anyone is reading this anyway – but a) Patrick Jane is hilarious b) his actor, Simon Baker, is AUSTRALIAN and let's face it, who doesn't love an Australian man? c) He is not only Australian, he's _attractive_. Hellooooo! Why _wouldn't _I be obsessed with The Mentalist? And an added bonus – it's an awesome show!

Ally: So that's Anevay's long, lengthy and unnecessary (hey! Spelled it right!) explanation as to why she is in love/obsessed with The Mentalist. Shall we get on with the story, little writer?

Anevay: -_- sorry again, guys! Hope you'll forgive me.

* * *

><p><em>Prisoners of War<em>

Mahad followed the trail all the way to a thick forest—there, he continued on foot.

He was exhausted. He had used up too much magic in such a small amount of time. That wasn't good; he could pass out and never wake up at any moment. But no, he had to keep going for both Atem and Mana's sake. He had to keep walking.

That was when he ran into the shack.

It was of medium size, short, with a possible basement. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed to rest before he got Atem out. His brain immediately protested that if he rested now, he would be caught, but his body didn't like to listen, and he promptly passed out, face-forward on the ground.

* * *

><p>Later, Mahad awoke to find it dark. His hands were tied and his eyes were covered with a cloth—something was shoved in his mouth to keep him from speaking. He cursed himself. <em>Idiot, idiot! <em>he thought angrily, _now you're stuck! Almighty…you idiot. Idiot, idiot._

He tried to relax. He could sense someone else in the room. Someone familiar…

Tuning in to the aura, he found that it _was _familiar—it was Atem's. He was with Atem! But his body wasn't moving, for all he could tell. Listening carefully, he determined that no one was in the room but he and his friend. People were probably listening, but they weren't nearby. Not yet. Just his luck! It was the perfect opening!

He slipped his hands free without difficulty, and well, the rest was history. The gag and blindfold were removed silently, and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The air was musty and bitter, almost like a bad mushroom. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and they rested on a still figure not far away.

_No, no, please, _he begged silently. _Come on…_

The arrows had been removed and the wounds roughly damaged. But was he breathing? He leaned in with bated breath, praying for a small puff of air, even just the tiniest…

There! A breath! He was breathing. Atem was alive. It was amazing. Impossible, even.

He had to make a decision, now. Atem needed immediately help. He couldn't get him back to camp in time; but for all he knew, their captors would simply kill them if he spoke up. Looking around the room, he found there was nothing to help him clean Atem's wounds. They would have to be sterilized—cleaned and properly bandaged. The damage would have to be assessed.

He knew what he had to do. "Please," he spoke up desperately, "This man needs help! I can help him. I'll do anything," he said, letting his voice grow softer and more pathetic, "Just get me the supplies I need. You obviously want this man to live, or you wouldn't have taken him and bandaged his wounds. I can help. He'll stay alive longer if you let me."

For a long moment, there was no response. Then the door opened and in came a burly man, face shadowed. He folded his arms, an obvious gesture. Mahad hesitated, pretending to shirk away. "Water," he whispered, "Lots of water. Clean bandages, something to pluck the darts from his arm, and herbs. Healing herbs."

The burly man left without a word.

All Mahad could do was sit by his friend's side, helpless, hoping the man would return with what he needed it. It was a desperate gamble, but the only one he had until he regained his strength. Atem was in no shape to move anywhere.

After what seemed an eternity, the man returned with said supplies. Again, he left without saying anything, even when Mahad thanked him quietly.

Now the Magician set to work. Atem was unresponsive the entire time, and that was good. It meant he felt no pain—or he was too far gone to realize anything, but Mahad was hoping for the first. It was better to get the nasty parts done before he awoke.

He removed Atem's shirt and set to cleaning the three puncture wounds from the arrows. That was the easy part. The part that was the most difficult was removing the darts—they were farther in his arm than Mahad had anticipated. It was a close process, but Atem didn't stir once (good or bad, he wasn't sure), and he managed to removed them. He placed the healing herbs on the wounds, bandaged them, and found something relatively soft to lay his friend's head on. Atem's chest was rising ever so slightly. Gently.

Now all Mahad could do was wait.

* * *

><p>The waiting was the worst. It always was.<p>

He eventually began to breathe heavier as he recognized the pain—when Mahad felt he had his magic reserves back, even in the slightest bit, he used his healing magic to reduce the pain and speed the process of healing. They had to get out of there soon, or they would never return home.

After the stirring came the moaning. After the moaning came the groaning. After the groaning, there was whimpering. After whimpering was crying. From crying it went to screaming. After the screaming, it became fidgeting. Then, it seemed to get better. Fidgeting, then tossing, then peaceful sleep. It went on for days in cycles, until the cycles seemed to stop on tossing, moments of restful sleep, but, more often than not, unrestful sleep.

Their captors, whoever they were, fed them enough each to keep them alive. Three small meals a day.

The process went on for a week, and then two. Atem still wasn't awake. Mahad was afraid they would never get out of there.

That was when Atem spoke. Well, _spoke _is a relative term. It was more of a: "Hum-uh-nuh-huh?" but it was something.

"Atem?" Mahad asked softly, keeping his voice down, "Are you awake? Can you hear me?"

In response, Atem reaching out weakly to push his close face away. "No, I'm asleep. Of course I can hear you, you…" he murmured, "Mahad?"

"Yes," he whispered, a very small smile twisting his dry face. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was trampled by a thousand elephants," he groaned, voice cracked, "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Mahad responded, "But I'm going to get us out of here." He raised his voice: "Could we get some water in here, please?"

A bucket was shoved in the room, sloshing with unclean water. It was always that way. It would have to do. Mahad ladled the water into Atem's mouth, which he promptly spit out with a hiss. "I'm sorry, it's the only water we have," Mahad muttered, grimacing, "I think we're prisoners of war, Atem."

"Wonderful," he choked, accepting the water. "How do we…?"

"I'm working on it."

"Good," Atem said through nearly closed lips, drifting back off to sleep.

It was nearly a week later that the questioning began. Mahad couldn't understand what they were saying—something about hidden weapons? He kept telling them it was a mistake (which it was), and that they had the wrong people. The captors responded by pointing towards the prone, weak Atem and saying in a thick accent: "General! General! _Weapons!"_

To which Mahad replied: "It is over! The war is over! You can trade us in for ransom money, but I do not know about any hidden weapons! What are you talking about?"

When he wouldn't talk, he was beaten.

When Atem was stronger, he was questioned as well. After they had both received beatings, Atem finally gave them some fantasy story about weapons called 'dragons,' hidden in the main camp. Maybe they would get trapped. Maybe they would come back and beat them. Either way, they would leave them behind with some food and water and a few big guards. It was the only chance they had to escape. Mahad's magic reserves were nearly full; they had to make a move.

Mahad helped Atem in to a sitting position. Atem huffed at the spikes of pain, resisting. "Now we wait," he murmured.

"Now we wait," agreed Mahad.

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: So I know that was lame, but I figured I would give you something. More tomorrow. Promise. Any ConCrit? I know this sucked :P I'll rewrite it you want, or add. I kept it simple. Dunno how that turned out. Just give me some tips, k? Sorry again, guys!

Ally: T&R, si?

Reviewers**: kate, RedRosePetal, SerenePanic, me(x2), muviri, Chistarpax, & Khemet- Egyptian vapire!**

Again, I am _really _sorry for the long delay. I had a bad block, but I think I'm kind of over it now. Thank you so much for all your wonderful compliments and being so patient with me! You guys are the best! Another chapter tomorrow, pinky promise! ^o^

-Anevay and Ally


	6. Grieving

**Disclaimer: Wow. That's pathetic. I really have to _tell _you? … nope, not gonna say it. You already know, and if you don't… (awkward silence).**

A/N: Another chapter, just like I promised! And I finished all the episodes of The Mentalist today, so now I'll just be doing reruns and working on fanfiction ideas… heh, weird that I already have an idea for one. It'll be good, trust me… I hope…

Ally: Not important, Anevay, get on with the chapter. Be a good little writer, now. Go on!

Anevay: Yeah, yeah, thanks for that Ms. Enforcer.

Ally: Just doing my job.

Anevay: sorry this one is a bit short...

* * *

><p><em>Grieving<em>

Mana should have stopped them from going. She should have threatened to kill herself if they went – to leave Atem, to never forgive them… but no, that wasn't who she was. She was supposed to support her friends, even if she regretted it, this time. Even if it had gotten them… killed. Never to return.

It still hurt to think it. It seemed as though not long after she had been told her fiance was never returning, she had been told that her near-brother wasn't either. They couldn't find him. For heaven's sake, they couldn't even find Atem's body! They were sure he was dead—that was helpful—but they had _lost _his body. _Lost _it, of all things! She was beyond furious and hurt. Beyond any form of comfort. Everything hurt.

In short, she was a mess.

Every one had tried to console her: her mother, father, Atem's parents, Mahad's, her friends, and… suitors.

Yes, suitors.

As if she needed _that! _Just looking at them made her sick. Didn't they get that she had just lost her fiance, betrothed, and best friend all in one, and then her other best friend and brother? What was wrong with them?

Of course, she could answer that question with a thousand and one words, but she held her tongue. Instead, she ran. She ran as far away, and as fast, as she could. She had to get her mind off of home, off of anything that reminded her of two of the most important people in her life. Gone like the wind takes away the dandelion seeds. Gone like the rays of the sun at nightfall.

She just wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, Mana being Mana—young, pretty, grieving and available—that didn't seem possible.

"Leave me _alone!" _she screamed, the tears streaming in her eyes and down her face so she couldn't see. _"Just go away, all of you! I don't want to see anyone! Leave me alone! Please!" _the last statement was delivered in an explosion of sobs and chokes, full of venom and sadness.

Mana shoved the door to the inn closed behind her, shaking. She left a full room of men and reproachful women behind her, staring in silence. Emotions raged inside her like she had never felt before—rage, hatred, nausea, grief; none of them were good emotions. It felt as if she would explode, or maybe her heart had disintegrated to be replaced by a burning hot sack of molten lava: it hurt, it was hot, it made everything so clear and it burned everything it touched; it burned the surface of all it came close to, including her skin.

Or, maybe, there were a thousand needles puncturing every possible important organ inside her body.

An enormous rock—no, boulder—weighing down on her back, threatening to crush her in to a thousand pieces.

And then there was the simple explanation: she was alone. Grieving. Angry at the world, at herself, and at anyone she came in contact with. She was a bomb ready to go off at the slightest disturbance, and that bomb had finally cracked and exploded. Somehow, that felt good.

Disregarding her dress, she swung into the saddle of a horse and wheeled him around rather roughly. At a kick, the horse sped off, out of her home, away from the people. No one tried to stop her. If they had, they would have regretted it.

Mana didn't know how long she rode, or where she was going, but it seemed like the landscape slid by as if it were on a projector. She was watching it from a distance, as if they were simply pictures where she had been instead of where she currently was—experiencing it. Instead, she watched it go by like every day seemed to go by. Sliding. Slipping. They were slippery things, days. She didn't seem to have a grasp on them. They simply slid past her, wet as rain and intangible as smoke.

Why couldn't she get a grip on reality? Was she traumatized? Lost? Alone, afraid… all of the above? It was probably the later. There were so many words she could use, and yet none came.

When she stopped riding, it took her a long painful moment to realize where she was. It was the river where Atem had proposed, the river where she, Atem and Mahad had played as children. Why had she come here? What was she _thinking?_ Now a whole new world of pain had invited itself in.

Mana closed her eyes, biting her lip. She took a breath and held it, praying that somehow she could go back in time to the days when they had been here. With her.

Opening her eyes, nothing had changed. The water gurgled by quietly, as if letting her grieve. The tree-tops overhead shaded her in protection, hiding her from the world for a time.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and sat at the base of the huge tree she and Atem had eaten dinner under—the tree that she had climbed when they were younger, only to have the two boys chase her from it by following her up, up, up, until she had to jump in to the water to avoid them. They had followed, and the chase continued.

Her knees went to her chest, hugging them close so that she curled up in a ball. Making oneself smaller seemed to be a natural reaction—like one could really hide themselves by seeming tinier than they were. It was comforting anyway.

She set her chin on her knees, blinking. Just sat there, staring out over the land and remembering her friends. It helped. Instead of thinking of them gone, she thought of them when they were at their best: with her, playful and easy.

Nostalgia was always the result of loss. Always. Why _wouldn't _it be?

"I miss you, Atem," she whispered. The salt-water tears, large as raindrops, fell down in trails and her chin quivered. "I miss you, Mahad. Why won't you come home? What went wrong?"

And that was the question, wasn't it? What had gone wrong? Both of them had promised they would return. They kept their promises, no questions asked.

So why had this one gone wrong?

She sighed and closed her eyes. She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep until it got cold. She awoke to a chilly breeze, and was hit with another realization that it was dark. The only light was that of the stars, moon and the occasional firefly. The horse had fallen asleep on its feet not far away. Quickly, she shook off the drowsiness and hauled herself to her feet to wake the horse. He was reluctant to move, but Mana was persistent, and they were trotting towards home in no time.

She was in no hurry to arrive. Returning late in to the night was of no concern to her. What did it matter? She shrugged. It didn't.

Now that she'd had some time to herself, she found that all she felt was numbness. Undoubtedly, the waves of grief and tears would continue, but for now she felt nothing. That was better, she supposed. The pain she had felt earlier was unbearable.

Mana rubbed her throat. She was thirty, her throat dry from crying and sitting and riding without water for hours. She was hungry too, but that was unimportant. The thirst was unimportant, too, she realized, and decided that nothing was important. Atem and Mahad were gone. Nothing was important right now. Maybe nothing ever would be. What did she care?

_Don't think like that, _she thought in horror, suddenly jabbed painfully at her carelessness. _They wouldn't want you to think like that! You've _got _to be strong, for you and for them! Don't give up now, baby, or…_

Or what? She blinked. Or what? What would happen if she gave up and didn't do anything for a while? What was the harm in that?

No, of course… it would hurt her family and her friends. They were already in pain at the loss, and with Mana in pain, that hurt them too. That would have to be the reason she was still standing and fighting: for them. Her family. Atem's family. Mahad's family. Her friends, _their _friends, everyone. It wouldn't do her any good to mope about in grief for the rest of her life. She had to make a living for herself.

But she would never find love like that again. That she was sure of.

_Oh, Atem… _she thought, swallowing a sob. _Why did you leave me?_

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: I know, a pointless/depressing/filler Mana chapter, but I liked writing it because… well, it's sad, and I like writing sad stuff… what's wrong with that?

Ally: Many things, my friend, many things.

Anevay: Oh, shut it. What do you know? You know what, don't answer that. T&R!

Reviewers: **SerenePanic, Cometflight525, Chistarpax, RedRosePetal, & muviri!**

Anevay: I'll just answer most of you as a whole. Thanks for all the compliments, despite my not-so-well-written chapter! You guys are great! **Cometflight525, **you _should _check out The Mentalist! It's awesome! **Chistarpax **and **RedRosePetal**, thanks for pointing out my mistakes! ^O^ thanks much guys! Glad you enjoyed it anyway X)

Ally: So, you know what I'm going to ask, and it may seem redundant, but yes, I'll ask anyway. After all, it's so simple. All you have to do is click that button down there… yes, that one… and type a few words about what you think. So simple it's almost ridiculous. So, REVIEW! XD

-Ally and Anevay

(Ally: Ha!)

(Anevay: Hey!)

-Anevay and Ally

(Ally: darn.)


	7. Escape and Retrival

**Disclaimer: Sigh. Not mine. None of it. Well, except the story line. And Ally.**

A/N: Alrighty, this is the second to last chapter! And I promise that if you stick with it, you'll get a good ending ^o^ trust me.

Ally: All's well that end's well.

Anevay: Wow, yeah, Ally, that's it in a nutshell. You actually said something useful.

Ally: Useful is my _middle name, _little writer.

Anevay: Yeah, see? That's what I mean. Useless.

Ally: Fear not, small peasant! Ally—

Anevay: Yeah, yeah, that's enough out of you. Now go to your room, young lady.

Ally: What are you, my mother?

Anevay: Oh no, much worse: I'm your _creator._

Ally: …

Anevay: That's what I thought. The writer always wins in the end.

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><p><em>Escape and retrieval<em>

The majority of their captors left. They could hear the big guards that had been left behind were now playing a game, gambling and muttering, cursing and generally acting as all thugs without brains did. Thugs meant an easy escape; they were big, stupid, and unaware of their captives' talents. That was good. It was very good. Almost too opportune a moment, but they couldn't question it.

They struck when the guards broke into an argument – probably about cheating. Mahad busted the door down, seized the closest sword, and took down the nearest two men in mere seconds. The others were slow but persistent to move; they held spears and axes, makeshift weapons, really, and jabbed at the Magician. They were almost too easy prey for him. Really, the only problem of escaping in the past weeks had been Atem and the fact that they had no idea where they were – but they would address that problem later.

The men fell, wounded or unconscious but not dead. Atem limped from the room, breathing hard with the exertion it took, perspiration on his brow. "Good work, Mahad," he managed, "Let's go."

Mahad nodded, "That was almost too easy," he said, showing the lightened mood he felt at the fact that they were free. He helped Atem from the low wooden place, and back into the forest. From there, he lifted Atem onto his back and glanced about cautiously: "Does this seem too easy to you?" he asked.

"Yes," Atem agreed, "But let's not think about that now. We're out. We have to take advantage of it." He took a deep breath to renew his strength. "Hopefully we'll be able to find someone from our company."

He didn't add that if they didn't, they were probably doomed. After all, they were across the sea. They were in unfamiliar territory, alone, with him wounded.

Mahad muttered something unintelligible before taking flight. His magic reserves were renewed and his strength returned. It had taken time for both of them to heal, otherwise they would have been out of there weeks before.

As they were gliding through the trees, Atem felt a strange restfulness he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't sure why – they weren't out of the woods yet, so to speak – they might not even make it home; maybe for months or years, depending on if anyone from their home found them or realized that they weren't dead. Heck, Atem wasn't even fully healed. There was always the possibility that his wounds were infected, or he would have some sort of relapse.

But somehow, Atem was comforted. For the time being, all was well. They were free from their captors. He was, more or less, healed, and Mahad's magic had returned in full.

So, he decided, he wouldn't worry about getting home just yet. For the moment, he would enjoy this moment of elation. He was alive and fairly free. It was nice while it lasted.

* * *

><p>Mahad had sensed something was wrong as soon as they had left the forest.<p>

There was a strange feeling in the air – one of restlessness or fear. That wasn't right. They had won the war! Shouldn't things be well now? He shook it off. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

It was only when they reached their previous company camp that he realized what was wrong.

They had won the war, but some of their comrades were still here – from Atem's company, no less. And the worst part? They were prisoners of the other side.

Maybe they had realized that their General and his commandant's bodies had not been retrieved and had stayed behind to find them – maybe they had thought Mahad was still alive. After all, they had seen Atem fall, so there was no way they would have believed he was still alive.

Either way, their decision had been a poor one. Being small in numbers, they had been easily overwhelmed.

Gently, Mahad set Atem's unconscious form under the outcropping of a cave. He crouched beside him and surveyed the camp. Obviously, he had to do _something,_ but with Atem out of action, it was just him, and he couldn't afford to use up his magic again.

He sighed softly in frustration. He could always try healing magic on Atem, but he had done that one too many times, and without the proper ingredients for something to ease the process along, it was too risky. Atem could have a relapse in pain. He could get an infection if he didn't already have one or more. No, he had to do something that didn't involve his friend.

He touched Atem's forehead and murmured a spell of sleep. "That will keep you safe, my friend," he murmured. "It is best that you stay out of this. If anything else happens to you, Mana will have my head." He smiled at that, but it was brief. Mana: his little sister. He still had a promise to keep.

Now, what to do, what to do…

He slowly formulated a plan. It was a spur-of-the-moment, precarious, careful kind of plan, but it was the only one he had. He shrugged philosophically. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? He was a good Magician, so he could probably pull this off.

And with that encouraging thought, he began weaving his spell.

* * *

><p>The mood in the camp was the usual: depressed, yet resigned. It was a sad but realistic fact.<p>

It had begun as any normal day, but it turned much different when Khait went out to fetch water with two guards watching his every move. _That _was always fun. They were of no help but to _encourage _him with comments such as 'move faster, cretin' or laughter and a mean smack across the back with a whip. Cruel, yes – necessary? No. It never was.

Khait had been one of Atem's commanders: trustworthy, clear-headed, clever and good with a spear. He had short black hair, was slim, now bordering skinny due to malnutrition, and had quick reflexes. He had a grace about him that he still retained. Perhaps that was why their captors liked to pick on him so much. He was a dignified, proud figure, and if brought to his knees, the others would fall easier.

Khait found it very strange when the footsteps behind him halted, the laughter stopped, and he turned to find them standing there with blank expressions. The one with the whip had dropped the weapon. Khait eyed them strangely, setting down his empty buckets. They didn't react.

"Hello?" he asked.

No reply. Just blank stares; even kind of _creepy _stares.

That was when a tall man in dull, dirty and torn robes stepped from the shadows of a boulder. "Hello, Khait."

Khait jumped. His hand went for his back, where his spear would normally be, but no such luck. He narrowed his eyes at the tall man, and realization dawned on him, "No way…" he muttered, and a sly, beaming grin lit his face, "Mahad? Is that you?"

The Magician smiled. "It is good to see you."

"Likewise," Khait agreed, stepping in to shake his hand. "Where have you been? We've been looking for you for nearly two months now." He scratched his neck awkwardly, "'Course, the search went haywire when half of us gave up and went home. That was when we came under our current situation. I assume you know the situation?"

Mahad nodded, "That is why I took control of the guards." He jerked a thumb at the two blank-eyed soldiers. "It is how I plan to get everyone free."

Khait grinned, "I knew you'd have a plan." His smile faded uncertainly. "What of the General?"

There was a gleam in Mahad's eyes. "I am pleased to inform you that he is alive, Khait. Very much alive."

"Really?" Khait exclaimed, "Well, today is just a day for good news! God himself must have sent you." He shook his head, "Where is he?"

"Resting," Mahad said, folding his arms. "He is not completely healed. His wounds are extensive. I do not want to place him in any harm, so I hid him. He will be safe."

Khait nodded, "Good. So what's the plan?"

Mahad smiled.

Khait returned to camp with the fresh water and two soldiers trailing him, looking perfectly normal. No one suspected anything. Mahad was able to slip in, cloaked and undetected. The plan was executed perfectly from there: being unseen, he brought each soldier he saw under his spell. They were controlled and he was unseen.

Just like everything else that day, it went perfectly.

As Khait moved through the camp, he brought his friends with him, and Mahad brought the enemy soldiers at the rear. Pretty soon, the leader of the camp realized something was wrong, but it was a bit too late. Looking around, he realized that all of his men were sitting by the kitchens – playing with pots and pans and various other kitchen utensils.

"What are you doing?" he stormed, marching towards them. "Where are the prisoners, you baffoons? What—" entering the kitchen area, that was when his expression grew blank. He sat down, looked around, and suddenly seized the pot from the nearest man. They went into a childish quarrel of wins and protests, no words, to steal the pot back.

Mahad observed his work with satisfaction. Khait shook his head while the now freed men cheered behind them. "What exactly did you do?" he asked the Magician.

"It is fairly simple," Mahad smiled, "I placed a barrier around the kitchen. All inside cannot leave, and those inside act in their most simple and primal state: children. They will remain that way until the spell is broken, or it wears off." He shrugged, "Whichever comes first."

Khait laughed. "Brilliant!"

"Tell me," Mahad said, turning to him, "When can we get home?"

The smiles on his and the men's faces was enough to tell him the answer. Khait replied: "As soon as we send word. At the latest, they'll be here to get us home by tomorrow night. They're anxious to see your return."

Mahad couldn't stop the childish, beaming smile on his face. Before he could reply, he heard someone yell: "Mahad! What in the devil did you do to me?" They all turned to see Atem leaning on a tree with a grumpy expression on his face. He continued: "A sleeping spell? Really? I could have helped, you know! You're only making me look weak. Really, Mahad, I'm fine! I—"

But his tirade was interrupted with cheers and cries of: _"General!"_ and then he was rushed by bodies, surrounding him. Atem shook his head, smiling. Khait made his way through, pulling Atem's arm gently around his shoulders: "Come on, General. Let's get you home."

* * *

><p>Their transportation arrived later that night. It was almost too good to be true. But then, they deserved some good fortune.<p>

As they boarded the boat with merry chatter, none of them looked back. They were going home. At long last, they were gong home. _Home. _It felt good to think about that. For once, in years, they had something to smile about.

The waves lapped at the sides of the boat. A banquet had been thrown and he had eaten well, but Atem was exhausted and ready for sleep. Besides, the sooner he was asleep, the sooner he woke, and the sooner he would be home. He could sleep for days if he wanted.

So Atem, in the comfort of his own quarters, listened to the footsteps and shouting on the main deck. It was good noise. No guns. No screams. It was a welcome and enjoyed change.

Almost like a dream.

Atem pinched his arm – hard. "Nope," he breathed, "Not dreaming."

That was when a single, suspended thought hung in the forefront of Atem's mind.

They were free. Truly free.

He was going home.

To Mana. To his family. To everything he loved. It was too good to be true. Could this really be happening? Was it _really _over? It was a strange feeling. A good feeling, but strange. After all this time…

Atem laughed. It was rich and happy in his baritone. "I'm going home," he whispered, a silly smile stretched from ear to ear. "I'm going home. We're going_ home._" He laughed again. Now that he was so elated, he couldn't possibly sleep, but that was alright. Elation was a fleeting, rare emotion, and so one to be relished with great care.

How would it feel to finally be home? How would it feel to hold Mana in his arms again?

_Mana, _he thought, joyful. Did she think he was dead? That was a terrible thought. What if she had done something rash, knowing of his death? What if she thought Mahad was dead as well? Oh dear… he could only hope he would arrive home soon.

In his sleep, he willed the boat to move faster. _Home. Home._

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: Would you look at that – I finally wrote it! How was it? Good? Bad? Does it need something? I dunno, is it too all over the place?

Ally: Nah. You did fine.

Anevay: Yeah, well, you're required to say that. T&R!

Reviewers: **RedRosePetal, SerenePanic, & Chistarpax!**

Anevay: Thanks much, guys! I can't say how much your compliments mean to me! ^O^ To everyone else: sorry this story has been so depressing... I did warn you! One more chapter, and hopefully this one will be the best! Wish me luck!

-Anevay and Ally

(Ally: I'm just gonna… do something…)

-Ally and Anevay


	8. Returned to You

**Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh, mine? Sadly, no.**

A/N: Well, this is the last chapter, and it'll be kinda short. Hope you enjoy it!

Ally: This is your shortest story yet!

Anevay: I know, I know, but I didn't have much to go on and… never mind.

Ally: Good girl! You stopped yourself from giving a long, lengthy, unnecessary explanation!

Anevay: Put a cork in it, child.

Ally: If you say so. Read on!

* * *

><p><em>Returned to You<em>

Despite her commitment to be as cheerful as she could, Mana was having difficulty fighting against her own self-pity.

More of them. More troops returning. It all hurt. Could they _please _stop cheering? It was selfish to ask, but it was what she wanted, and at the moment, she didn't care about being selfish. It _hurt _to hear the others screaming in joy at the return of their own loved ones. Mana wasn't as lucky. Couldn't they be sensitive to that?

Apparently this was the last load of them. There would be no more returning soldiers. Maybe Mana could finally move on and forget about all this – without the daily reminders, she might be able to do it.

Mana wanted to be happy for everyone else, really she did, but how could she?

She pressed her hands harder against her ears. That never stopped the noise or the pain, but it was worth a try. It always was.

Someone pounded on her door. "Mana!" Mother. "Come outside, please," she sounded anxious. Excited, even. What was to be excited about? All Mana wanted to do was disappear and melt into the ground.

"_No," _she responded stubbornly.

"Please, Mana, for me?"

She inwardly groaned. Her mother had been one of her greatest comforts, as she always had been. She had to do it for her mother, and for some odd reason, she wanted to. It was irrational; getting up, leaving the room, going outside… it was only open old wounds, so why was she doing it?

"I'm coming…" she muttered. She pushed her fingers through her hair and attempted to straighten her dress. She shrugged; she looked alright. No need to look good anyway.

Her mother beckoned her outside.

And then down the street.

It hurt to walk. Every footstep was another stitch being torn open in her heart. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shook her head: "Don't make me go any further, mother, please."

Mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Just around the corner, dear, you want to see this, trust me."

Why did mother sound so happy? Couldn't everyone just let her crawl in her hole and stay there? What on Earth was there to be happy about?

But she went. Something in her gut told her to go.

Upon seeing what was at the docks, she knew she couldn't go any further. There they were: the soldiers, embracing their families and friends, kissing their lovers. She closed her eyes. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted to see.

"Why did you want me to see this?" she demanded, eyes tight shut.

"Look," mother whispered, voice full of open convicted excitement now. "Look, Mana!"

"I don't want to! Leave me alone!" the tears tore at her throat and eyes. "Do you want to _torture me? I—!"_

She was cut off.

"Mana!"

She froze. That voice. That voice! Was she imagining it? She had to be. The voice called to her again.

"_Mana!"_

She opened her eyes and stared at the ground, but didn't look up. Again, they called to her.

"Am I really that hard to look at? Mana, my love, please."

She took a deep breath and, at a nudge from her mother, looked up.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she blinked the moisture from her eyes. She had to know it was really him. When she wiped away the tears, her vision focused very clearly on a man with tri-spiked, chaotic hair, amethyst eyes and a confident smile. His eyes appeared wet, even at this distance. He was sitting on a stool at edge of the dock, and beside him was a tall man with short chestnut hair.

Mana hesitated a moment, taking a step forward. She watched as Mahad helped Atem to his feet; he wobbled for a moment and took an unsteady step forward, and his eyes implored of her. He smiled.

Then there was a sound that had seemed long forgotten: Mana's bubbly, giggling laughter.

Atem opened his arms for her.

She went running. She slammed into him, arms going tightly around his neck and torso, clutching him tightly but gently. For a man who had been shot and impaled by arrows, it was remarkable that he kept his feet. He absorbed her impact as he had all his life, holding on to her tighter than he had ever held on to anything.

Mana was half sobbing and half laughing. The feelings in her chest were old feelings that had seemed forgotten, and yet here they were, emerging anew and causing her heart and head to pound; making her chest burst with joy.

"Atem," she choked through the crying and laughing. "I thought…"

He brought their faces around just enough to see her aquamarine eyes and the tears there. "Mana," he said softly. It was incredible to finally hold her after so long. "I've returned to you at last, just like I promised."

Then finally, after years of separation, their lips met once more.

Atem rubbed her back, holding her close. They didn't say anything. They knew how the other felt; words couldn't express their feelings. There were only three words that could possibly convey the meaning, and Atem whispered them in her ear before kissing her neck.

"What about me?" asked Mahad, but he was smiling.

Mana beamed and jump-tackled Mahad, "_Of course, _I'm happy to see you, Mahad! You're the reason he's here. You're the reason you're alive at all. Thank you, thank you! I thought I would never see you again," she wiped her eyes, "I thought you were goners."

"I made a promise, Mana," he said, winking. "And I never break a promise."

From there it was a love-fest of hugs and kisses. Families were embraced and friends were greeted – words were said and emotions were high. It had been a long, tiring war and an even longer, even more tiring wait for their return, but they were home now, safe and sound. Everything was finally over, and now they could get some peace. Some happiness.

Later that night, Atem was asleep beside Mana, resting. They had been staying up together, sitting beside one another in a quiet, companionable silence, when Mana heard Atem's quiet snoring. He had fallen asleep as they sat side-by-side on the porch, an arm around her.

She just smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you're home, Atem," she breathed, resting her forehead against his cheek.

It was ironic, really. Just the day before, she had been in the depths of despair, pitying herself and hating everyone else. And now… now she only felt content, happy, and peaceful. All the good emotions had returned, replacing the bad of the weeks before. It was as if they had been a bad dream, and when she had awoken, everything had been set right. It was hard to believe that this wasn't a dream, but she had checked multiple times. She was awake. Atem was really sitting next to her, safe. With her.

What could be better?

Mana sat there for a long time, leaning on Atem, listening to his breathing. Before long it grew cold, and she very gently shook his shoulder. "Atem," she said softly, kissing his face, "You need your rest. Time to go to sleep."

He just grunted, blinking wearily. He sat up and stretched, smiling at her when he was more awake: "Bed time already?"

"Yep," she said cheerfully. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hauled him to his feet, an arm dragged around her shoulders. "Come on, bed-head."

"Bed-head? Is that a hair joke?"

"Of course not," she said innocently.

"Mm-hm."

Mana laughed. "It's good to have you back, Atem. I missed you."

Atem kissed her head very softly. "I missed you too, Mana. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"You better be right."

"Of course I'm right. When have I been wrong?"

"Hm, let me think. Oh, I know," she said sarcastically, "When you said it was a 'good idea' to go swimming in the rain."

"You've really got to let that go. How old was I?"

"Fourteen."

"Now you're just exaggerating things to make me look bad. I was twelve."

"Same thing, really."

Atem just laughed.

* * *

><p><span>Anevay<span>: I figured I'd leave it at that. A good, joking conversation between lovers/best friends. Hope you enjoyed that!

Ally: oh, oh, T&R!

Reviewers: **RedRosePetal, SerenePanic, kate, BlAcKoNiX, & Chistarpax!**

**RedRosePetal**: Gracias, my friend! X)

**SerenePanic**: hahahah naughty girl! Get those dirty thoughts out of your head ;) hahah! I suppose I'm somewhat responsible for that… ^o^ whoops!

**BlAcKoNiX**: It's whatever time period and whatever war you want it to be, really. I didn't specify for a reason. I don't know where to put it, so I left it up to you! Anyway, thanks! :)

**Chistarpax**: Thanks much! I loved writing how happy Atem was. Cause yeah, he totally deserves it! As to letting it end, I can't say I'm unhappy to see it finished – I had tons of blocks on this story, but I think it's one of my personal favorites that I've written. Thank you so much for all your kind words!

Anevay: Well thanks much to everyone who has reviewed, and I hope you'll give it one last review! Whether for this last chap or for the story as a whole! I've said it before, but I really appreciate my reviewers! You guys are what keeps me writing!

So, in other news, I have no idea when my next story will be posted, so keep up to do date by reading my blogs (links on my profile) or just checking my profile from time to time. Putting me on author alert would help if you wanna know when another story is posted. I think I might take a break from the awesome Yu-Gi-Oh! for a bit and write some Mentalist fics, but we'll see what I decide to do.

Ally: Love ya all!

-Anevay & Ally

(Ally: just one more time…)

-Ally & Anevay

(Anevay: Uh, no)

-Anevay & Ally


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